I Wish It Would Rain
by Javanyet
Summary: A loss affecting all of Starfleet interrupts the start of Data and Leo's wedding plans. Secondary character death. One shot.


_I'm telling you this hurt I feel inside  
__words could never explain  
I just wish it would rain_

"Data you asked, and I'm telling you I wanna get married at the Academy. Under Boothby's maple tree."

"Though it is not unusual to be married on the grounds of Starfleet Academy, I do not understand the reference to 'Boothby's tree'. All of the trees on the grounds are cared for by Mr. Boothby."

Leo shook her head vehemently. "No, no, I'm talking about _his_ tree. The only honest-to-goodness real live organic tree on that whole perfectly perfect campus. He got it from an antique horticulturalist – I mean somebody who bred antique plants, but I guess he could have been antique, too – and raised it from a sapling. It's big and beautiful and real and I wanna be married right under it with Boothby there. In fact I've decided I want to ask him to give me away. He gave me what turned out to be the best advice I've heard yet in this enlightened century, and he's gonna be in on the payoff."

Completely perplexed, Data took a moment to answer. "I was unaware that the tree you refer to was obtained specifically by Mr. Boothby. I was under the impression it had been a project of the Academy's terraforming horticultural department… though given Mr. Boothby's inclinations against biosynthesis it is not surprising. Very well, it sounds like a very agreeable and symbolically appropriate location for our wedding. And I am sure the captain will welcome an occasion to visit again with Mr. Boothby, as will I. But tell me, what 'advice' did he give you? I have not known Mr. Boothby to dispense advice, as he believed the only worthwhile guidance to be, and I quote: 'three words: think it over'."

Ten Forward was fairly busy this evening, and Leo and Data were unable to sit at their "usual" table in the back corner, so they'd found seats right smack in the middle of the room. Now several crewmates, some unknown to Leo, stopped dead in their conversation to hear what advice Boothby might have dispensed, as they too had received the same three words when they'd made the mistake of attempting to treat Boothby as a "guru". The sudden silence reminded Leo of a television commercial for some investment company that was popular in her time. She rolled her eyes and ignored everyone but Data.

"I don't think he considered it advice, but he told me that if you'd asked if we could continue our friendship that I should take you up on it. He said I could 'do worse' , remember? So I guess in the long run it's more a Galaxy class understatement, huh?"

"Agreed. I am sure he would be relieved to have it characterized as such. Very well, then. Do you wish to make the request of the captain, or shall I?"

"Well maybe we'd better wait until we decide on a date, huh? I have to look at the upcoming schedules for months in advance to figure out when's a good time to leave Captain Courageous and Numero Uno all on their own. Will's kind of out of practice at handling the shipboard administrative stuff, and the captain I think has blocked out all of his old unwanted responsibilities as a bad memory. We'll have to pick a time when no conferences or Starfleet diplomatic functions are scheduled, like that." She didn't notice Data's gaze shift subtly to an area just behind and above her left shoulder.

"Why thank you, lieutenant, on behalf of Captain Courageous and myself, 'Numero Uno' assures you we are grateful for your consideration. You know how risky things get on the Enterprise when we're left 'all on our own'."

Whoops. "Uh, hey Will, whassup?" When off duty she'd long ago dropped the formal titles she'd clung to in her first months on board. Riker laid a heavy hand on Leo's shoulder and leaned down with a reptilian smile.

"How about this, I agree _not_ to fill the captain in on his new nickname if…" he enjoyed her gulp of discomfort for a moment before finishing with, "you ban synthehol from the reception?"

She blew out a sigh of relief. "I can live with that. I can't promise Romulan ale, though."

Will released her shoulder and straightened with a laugh. "But I'll bet our friend Boothby wouldn't have any trouble."

It was easy to forget how very many Starfleet officers and personnel had been affected by the curmudgeonly groundskeeper. She was enjoying her decision more and more. It was gonna be a great party. _Whenever_ it was.

* * *

Leo couldn't contact Boothby as soon as she'd like; the Enterprise had been sent to the Delta quadrant to gather information on several Class M planets that the Federation was considering for colonization, and would return in days to the same quadrant to continue its survey. By the time a subspace message could have reached the Academy, and Boothby dragged bodily to the comport to respond, they'd be back in real-time communications space and back out of reasonable range again. Now that she thought of it, she'd only spoken to Boothby once since her assignment to the Enterprise. It had been a month after her arrival, and she'd felt the need to "check in". The reception her communication got was not unexpected, and she didn't take it personally. 

"So Ollie you haven't destroyed the flagship or driven the Captain to resign his commission yet. Well done. I hope the next time I'm forced to sit in front of a piece of machinery to talk that it'll be for something a little more dramatic. Next time see if you can't find me by the rose beds. I have work to do, you know." His smile belied the words. "You still keeping company with that Data?"

"Yeah. I took him up on it, like you said."

"Good girl. Give 'em hell, Lieutenant. It's what you're there for."

"C'mon Boothby, I thought I was here to help Captain Picard's command and Enterprise operations run more smoothly."

Boothby winked. "That's what they tell _him_. We know the truth. Now excuse me, but I have earthbound matters to attend to."

"You take care of yourself Boothby."

She laughed as they finished in unison: "Nobody else will."

That had been over a year ago. While consistently referring to her presence in the 24th century so far as "two years", the fact was she was no better at gauging such things as she'd ever been. What with her time at the Academy, it was coming up on three. She'd come to realize she'd only started counting (approximately, anyway), since meeting Data.

Now Leo snuck a few moments after receiving the new survey protocols to transfer her communication from Federation Sciences to Starfleet Academy.

"Computer, send a subspace message to Earth, UFS San Francisco Starfleet Academy Central Campus, party Boothby."

"First name and rank?"

She fumbled for a minute. She'd never even considered him _having_ a first name. Oh well. "First name unknown. No rank. Civilian position, groundskeeper. There's only one so designated, computer."

"Earth, UFS San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Central Campus, party Boothby, Otto M., no rank, civilian position groundskeeper. Subspace communication engaged."

Otto? What a great name, Leo thought, though she decided she wouldn't share it with anyone else as he hadn't seen fit to do so. The face that appeared on the viewscreen was that of a dark young (apparently) male of indeterminate species, probably a communications intern. He appeared uncomfortable, but Leo figured he was new at the job.

"Lieutenant O'Reilly, I regret to inform you that Mr. Boothby will be unable to respond to your communication."

"Yeah, right. Tell him it's Ollie, will you, at this time of year he's probably doing some tree pruning."

Now the cadet looked positively miserable. "One moment, please."

The next face that appeared was a human woman of obvious rank. "Lieutenant O'Reilly, I am Commander Bryson, the director of Academy Communications."

"Sorry, Commander, I didn't mean to be out of line with your cadet."

"No apology necessary. But I felt it would be better if I passed the information on myself."

Huh. "What 'information'? Did Boothby get promoted to chancellor or something?"

No smile was forthcoming from Commander Bryson. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, the Enterprise has been in the Delta quadrant for over a week, and standard subspace communications were impossible. We'd hoped whatever ships in the fleet were out of range would have received ship-to-ship communications within their quadrants."

"We only got back in this quadrant hours ago, and are leaving again in two days. Nobody much was nearby. I've had no relayed priority communications from other ships regarding any Academy matters. Why don't you tell me what we missed so I can fill in Captain Picard."

"I'm afraid it's more of a personal than an official nature, Lieutenant, and may not have been coded priority via ship-to-ship, though Starfleet priority coded the original communication."

Why the hell would Starfleet have sent out a 'personal' communication to the entire fucking fleet? And prioritized? She wasn't liking this at all. "Commander Bryson pardon my bluntness, but what exactly are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry to say that our groundskeeper Mr. Boothby passed away several days ago of apparent heart failure. He was 126 years of age, and had refused any of the typical medical treatments that might have bolstered his circulatory system. It's quite remarkable he lived in more-or-less excellent health up until his last day, considering he refused any 'artificial' medical assistance during his time here."

Leo sat silent, mouth open, not even breathing. "Now let me get this straight," she said stupidly, "you're telling me that Boothby, your groundskeeper Boothby, the guy who taught me to plant bulbs, who told me to pursue the friendship that is getting ready to morph into marriage, is dead." The look on the commander's face revealed she'd been involved in many similar conversations in the past days.

"I'm very sorry, Lieutenant. As you can imagine everyone here at the Academy is terribly upset. Boothby," and here the commander herself struggled for control, "Mr. Boothby has been a vital member of the Academy for nearly ninety years, and our staff, cadets, and graduates all are – were –very attached to him. There will of course be a memorial, and the fleet will be advised of the details when they are arranged."

"Sure, thank you." Leo shook herself. "Thank you, Commander. I'm sorry, it's just,"

"I know, Lieutenant. We're all feeling the same way. Starfleet Academy out."

The information sat in her brain like a dead weight, unprocessed and going nowhere. She'd never told Boothby when she and Data had decided to "make it official", things had happened so _fast_ with Halftel and the others. She should have done it anyway, he would have been so self-satisfied and deserved to be. Somewhere behind her disordered thoughts was the awareness that this personal scene had been and was being played out across the galaxy, among people whose existence she'd never imagined. The entire fleet, they'd notified the_ entire fleet_. An entity that had redefined the known universe for the past two centuries had mobilized its highest-priority communications to acknowledge the death of a civilian groundskeeper. Maybe it wasn't as soulless as she sometimes believed. Then again, certain individuals by their very existence negated soullessness, didn't they?

"Lieutenant? Lieutenant, we're still waiting for the survey protocols Starfleet sent. Mr. LaForge needs to determine what specifications need to be calibrated in Engineering. Lieutenant O'Reilly, if you can interrupt your wedding plans for a _few_ precious moments, I'd appreciate…" Picard's half-serious impatient tirade cut off sharp when Leo appeared and approached his desk, PADD containing the necessary protocols in hand. "Leo, are you all right? Geordi, I'll get back to you, Picard out." He ended communications with Engineering and repeated, "Are you all right, Leo?"

She set the PADD on Picard's desk and shook her head vaguely, shrugged as if she'd encountered something beyond her skill level to express. The captain stood, quite concerned.

"Leora, tell me what's wrong."

"Boothby…" finally Leo focused on Picard's face, and the understanding she saw there preceded the unnecessary question.

"What about Boothby?" He said the name with a familiarity shared by so many others. Of course, he'd known him years and years longer. Leo didn't answer, but her face said it all. "My god." He sat down heavily. "I thought he'd live forever." Uncharacteristically he added, locking pained eyes on Leo's, "He was _supposed_ to live forever, wasn't he?" For just a moment he dropped his head in his hands, elbows braced on the desk. When he raised it again, Leo saw tears struggling to gather. Struggling because it wasn't his way to express himself so openly. Gathering because right now 'his way' didn't matter much.

"I'll make the announcement to the crew. Many of the senior staff are well acquainted with Boothby, though for some years now the new cadets have somehow managed to miss out of their own accord, to their great detriment. Present company excepted of course." He took a breath and exhaled explosively, "Bloody hell." He reached automatically for the PADD Leo had given him. "That will be all for today, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

"Sir, I," she wanted to say _something_, something to acknowledge that this was more for him than a loss decades-removed. It was as fresh in its way as it was to her.

"Please, Lieutenant. Dismissed. I'm sure you understand." They shared very few personal habits in common, but the need for emotional privacy was chief among them.

"Yes sir. You know where to find me."

"Always."

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to find the holodeck program she was looking for. Considering the far-reaching sphere of Boothby's influence it really shouldn't have been a surprise at all. 

"Computer, program A2B." The doors opened and she entered, adding, "Computer, engage code lock." When she'd reached her destination she ordered, "Computer, rain." She sat down and turned up her face so what managed to pour down through the thick foliage of the maple tree could wash over her. In little more than seconds she was soaked through, wishing the sensation of loss rushing at her could be as artificial as the rain that poured over the tears she couldn't stop.

* * *

It wasn't quite as easy for Data to find her. Upon hearing the Captain's shipwide announcement he contacted the ready room, and was told Leo had been dismissed for the remainder of her watch. She was not in their quarters, nor was she in the conference room next to Holodeck 1 where he knew her to take refuge when overwhelmed by personal circumstance. He paused in passing by the holodeck door to consider where else she might be, and noticed the code featured on the "program running" display panel. Of course. 

"Computer, open door."

"The door to the holodeck has been code locked by its user."

"Computer open door; code IWLNO Data 1." Intensely protective of her private time, Leo had agreed to provide only Data with an access code to override her holodeck code lock, to be used only when absolutely necessary. This time, he knew, it was absolutely necessary. The door slid open. Once knowing what program was running he knew immediately where to find her and knelt beside her where she sat with face pressed into her drawn up knees, sobbing disconsolately. In spite of the controlled temperature of the simulation she was shaking.

"Leora Eileen." He said nothing more. In his many conversations with Deanna Troi he had learned long ago that in the face of the most profound human grief words were irrelevant. Physical presence was all that could be offered, with the understanding that even that may not "help". But, as Deanna had said, "Being there for someone in pain is always better than leaving them alone, whether or not anyone can figure out how or why."

She neither spoke nor moved, so Data wrapped his arms around her curled up form and held her, rocked her with him as simulated rain continued to saturate them both. He knew why she'd chosen this location, but not the weather. It didn't matter now. He didn't tell her not to cry, he didn't tell her it would be all right. He didn't even tell her he would love no other. He'd never seen her come so undone, but decided instinctively the most helpful thing he could do would be to become for her a safe place to do so. Though her heart rate and respiration steadied in a little while, her dropping body temperature concerned him. Even holodeck rain was wet, and it wasn't a wise thing for a human to remain in even a simulated downpour for who knows how long.

"Computer, end rain," he announced, wondering if she'd object. She didn't.

"He always cursed the weather shields," Leo said finally, having shifted so she was curled in Data's lap as he sat cross-legged with his back against the tree trunk. "He said, can't it just _rain_ like it's supposed to? Even the 'bad' weather has to be perfectly perfect around here." Data was uncertain where Boothby's comments ended and hers began, but didn't suppose it mattered.

"His death is a profound loss," he said quietly. "He befriended me when others treated me as a mere curiosity."

"Me too." Leo was about to sit up but was restrained by Data's gentle grip. Not yet, it said, take your time. She relaxed again and thought aloud, "I hope they don't turn his tree into some kind of shrine. He'd hate that."

"I am certain that there are enough staff at the Academy who will wish to honor Mr. Boothby's philosophy that there is little risk of that happening."

"You now how I always say that you're the first person I met here who treated _me_ like a real person? Well that's not true, not really. Boothby did it first. But he just seemed so much like I'd known him for years, I guess it was no big deal. But it was." Her breath hitched suddenly and she burrowed closer as Data tightened his embrace.

"To be accepted as who you are is always a 'big deal'. It is why I did not wish to make our first goodbye permanent. Our friendship then, and what it has become, is a 'big deal' for the same reason your friendship with Boothby was. You accepted me, with no judgments, from the moment we met."

"Guess I was just too green to know the difference."

Data responded by copying one of Leo's frequent expressions of affection. "Lucky me," he told her as he wiped the wet hair from her face. She laid her head back on his shoulder and stared idly into his face, that endlessly caring and patient face that never failed to calm her.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"You always make me feel better. 'All' better will have to wait, though."

"There is no 'rule book', so Counselor Troi has informed me. I have learned that navigating human loss is a complicated venture. I cannot offer any insight, but I am here. I hope that is enough."

Now Leo did sit up and wrap her arms around Data's neck. "It's so completely enough," she kissed him to punctuate, then sat back and plucked at his uniform. "You're all wet."

"There is no need to worry. I am waterproof, as you are well aware." Many occasions of lovemaking in a holodeck hot tub had proven that theory to her great satisfaction, in fact.

"Me too." When he looked puzzled, she reminded him, "You're not the only one who can't rust!"

"But of the two of us, I am the only one who cannot 'catch a cold'. Your multiple allergies to contemporary preventive supplements make you susceptible to non-contemporary disorders. If it is acceptable, I will order dry clothes and we may return to our quarters."

"Well the first part is fine, but I think I'd rather go to Ten Forward and see who else is around to swap Boothby stories."

"Very well. Computer, a full set of dry clothing, civilian, specifications for Lieutenant Leora O'Reilly, and Starfleet issue uniform specifications for Commander Data." The results of the "rainstorm" had dried up around them already. Leo changed into the undies, blue jeans and black t shirt that had appeared and, as Data changed to a dry uniform, shook her head to settle her still-damp hair. Data carefully ran his fingers through, untangling it.

"Copping a feel, again, Commander?" Leo teased. The sadness remained inside like a bad bruise, but her emotions were calming down. A good-humored gathering to share the memories of others would help even more. How she'd changed. Time was she'd run and hide and stay hidden. Time was, she didn't have Data to draw her back to the land of the living. And time was he didn't have her to do the same thing for him. She took his hand as they left the holodeck.

"So do you think we should have some sort of canopy under the tree, or just go al fresco?"

"Whatever you decide will be acceptable."

As the doors of the turbolift slid shut Leo observed, with a recovering smile, "Boothby was right. I could sure do worse."

Data answered with the "smartass smirk" softened by The Look she knew so well. "I agree. You could have done much worse."


End file.
